


took you all forever

by maureenbrown



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Genderfluid Character, M/M, Multi, Road Trips, Slash, Sleepy Cuddles, Trans Character, also lowkey tried to slip in demiboy minho but, trans gally and genderfluid newt are the best im :')
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-17 09:23:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8138930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maureenbrown/pseuds/maureenbrown
Summary: Minho drums his fingertips across the dashboard and steering wheel as he sings heartily, taking his eyes off the road for a moment only to close them as he hollers loudly. “Who is that girl I see, staring straight back at me?” He shouts, rolling the windows down and catching the eye of a bunch of teenagers coasting in the other direction down the highway, their looks quizzical as they lower their sunglasses.Minho bursts out laughing again, and cranks up the music impossibly louder so the Mulan soundtrack reverberates around the car.





	

Minho drums his fingertips across the dashboard and steering wheel as he sings heartily, taking his eyes off the road for a moment only to close them as he hollers loudly. “Who is that girl I see, staring straight back at me?” He shouts, rolling the windows down and catching the eye of a bunch of teenagers coasting in the other direction down the highway, their looks quizzical as they lower their sunglasses.

Minho bursts out laughing again, and cranks up the music impossibly louder so the Mulan soundtrack reverberates around the car.

“Turn the music up, Minho!” Ben shouts from the back, and Minho adjusts the rearview mirror only to see the other boy whooping with his shirt off, swinging around in a circle and jumping despite the bumpiness of the road.

“Turn the music down, Minho.” Newt snarls from his spot in the front, his face shoved in a travel manual so Minho can only see the top of his head.

Minho lets out a rush of air past his teeth. On one hand, Ben does look very good with his shirt off. On the other, Newt is just as attractive and gets angry quicker…

“Compromise?” Alby advises, holding a judicial hand up, while Thomas scrunches up his nose, in a state of confusion.

“How do you compromise with two levels of audio?” Thomas asks, cocking his head to the side, while Gally growls next to him, piling his legs on the other boys lap and slouching down in the RV’s torn up, red leather seats.

“You turn it off altogether.” He huffs, and Minho shoots him a look over his shoulder, turning to see the road quickly afterwards.

“Nobody wants to hear your emo bullshit, Gally.” He scoffs, and Gally looks even more offended as he tucks his head underneath Thomas’ chin, cursing against his collarbone. Minho can’t hear, but he suspects the angry teen is already plotting his death in nineteen different ways.

Newt stands up, peering over the pages of his book and narrowing his eyes at the speedometer. “Min…” He starts, an uneasy edge creeping into his tone.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Minho drawls, and Newt waves off the nickname immediately.

“You’re going eighty miles per hour. Is that really necessary?” He asks, his British accent thick as always, though it does become more prominent when he’s frustrated. Now, as you can guess, is one of those times.

“Babe, relax. I’m just getting to that gas station because Frypan’s whining in the back.”

Gally leans over across Winston to smack the chubby boy’s leg, calling him some demeaning operative in a lower tone that makes Winston bang his head against the window behind him as he snorts.

“I’m hungry! So are y’all, you babies were complaining about it earlier. Looks like I’ll be eating all that food myself and not sharing any.” Frypan snaps, unusually cross as he pouts.

The crowd goes quiet, Gally leaning back to rest his head back on a flustered Thomas’ shoulder. The only sound is the crooning of the Jamaican lobster from The Little Mermaid.

“That’s what I thought.” Frypan leans back, sounding satisfied as he crosses his arms over his chest. “No more talkin’ ‘bout my weight, got it? You’re a bunch of assholes.” He mutters, and Gally avoids his gaze.

Minho can feel a tendril of sweat dripping down his forehead. This car ride got tense very quickly.

“Minho, you’re flooring it. Go back down to seventy.” Newt alerts, clearing the silence while Winston starts a very awkward conversation about the girls that are reaching their destination also in the back. Minho forces himself to relax, easing the pressure on the gas.

“Thanks, mom.” He gravels, and Newt doesn’t seem fazed, covering his face with the book again.

“Kinky.” Gally mutters, and shuck, does Minho want to abandon the wheel to drop kick him out the window. He’s not sure Thomas would appreciate that, however.

“So, what do people normally do on roadtrips? This is boring as fuck.” Ben sighs, having slouched back in his chair, his tank top now discarded on the floor as his pale chest rises and falls with every breath.

“Tourist traps, yo. We’re about to find the biggest ball of yarn.” Minho lets out an excited booyah, not receiving one in return. He purses his lips and glances behind him at blank and empty expressions, his shoulders slumping somewhat. “What, you guys don’t want to try to take it apart?”

“No, that sounds even more boring than staying in here, dude.” Ben speaks up, and Minho groans, only seconds away from bashing his head on the wheel.

“Come on you guys, get pumped! We’re headed to the motel right now, which is gonna be a blast, and there are tons of diners and shit along the way. It’ll be fun guys, just yell if you see anything—“

“RIGHT FUCKING THERE! Minho, pull over!” Frypan screeches, and Minho narrowly veers to the side of the road, dust collecting around the recreational vehicle around them, the screeching of tires just above the melodious singing of Belle from The Beauty and the Beast.

“It’s a gas station!” Frypan stands up, pointing out a window as they wait for the gravel to clear, Ben pressing his nose against the window as he tries to spy through the debris.

“You made me pull up for a goddamn gas station? Frypan, for Christ’s sake!” Minho shouts, raking his fingertips down his face and scraping his nails against his cheeks.

“Hey, it’s the first place that has nourishment we’ve seen in, like, two hours! Come on, I’m going down.” Frypan responds, already shoving past the feet of his friends to make his way to the door, not even pausing before shoving it open and sprinting to the station.

The car is quiet as Minho reaches over to shut the door again, before Gally speaks up. “Can we leave him behind?” He asks softly, almost under his breath, and immediately everyone bursts into protests. Gally’s vote is vetoed as Minho puts the car back in drive, rolling over the gas station parking lot.

…

“Is there any way we could write ‘Mystery Inc.’ on the RV? I stole some ketchup packets back at the gas station.” Ben muses almost to himself as he hops out of the car first, the neon light of the pink flamingo sign lighting their path towards their motel, the night air humid and sweltering.

“No, you can’t. We don’t have a dog.” Winston pipes up, following behind him and nearly tripping as he blindly misses the last step, cracking his cheekbone into Ben’s slick, bare back.

“You two are ridiculous.” Newt mutters under his breath, clapping a calloused hand to shove Winston carefully out of the way.

“I saw a dog at that rest stop. I could’ve taken it.” Gally mutters, briskly shoving his chest into Newt’s shoulder bone to get him moving faster, the other boy turning and placing his hands on chest with a frustrated look.

“For the last time, you can’t fucking steal, Gally.” Alby calls, appearing a moment later from the ajar door, his eyebrows narrowed dangerously, and he clamps his mouth shut.

“Yeah, Thomas’d probably rat you out.” Minho says, his mouth contorted in a smirk and a sneer at the same time as he takes a running start to hop onto Alby’s back, the other boy practically screeching but successfully supporting him.

“It was one time, get off my ass about it!” Thomas shrieks, Minho throwing his head back and snickering as he fishes in his back pocket for the car keys, waiting for an exasperated Frypan to exit the car before locking it, Alby hoisting him up higher on his back as he points towards the sleazy motel. Most of the lights are dimmed, considering it’s around one o’clock in the morning, and there’s a couple shouts from open windows, along with beds being squeaked with some clamors that sound distinctly like moans.

Minho takes a deep breath of the crowded air. None of them are going to get a good night’s rest, but it just adds to the ambiance of road trips. He’s not looking forward to their crankiness tomorrow, however.

“We have two rooms.” Alby says at the nearest wait staff, his tone commandeering once more as Minho rests his chin on top of his shoulder, his head lolling to the side. “Saved under Minho Park.”

The girl looks up, bubblegum popping from her unsatisfied lips. She doesn’t even check them in, glancing around at the crowd before slapping down a bunch of key cards on the counter, leaning back in her chair to pay more attention to her phone.

“Have a nice day.” Newt adds politely before chauffeuring the group in the right direction, dividing the teens once they arrive at their rooms: Newt, Minho, Thomas, and Gally sharing the first and Winston, Frypan, Alby, and Ben in the latter.

“Wait, I have to room with him?” Gally asks Newt, his nose wrinkling in disgust as he points a finger sharply in Minho’s direction, Alby letting him down safely off his back.

“Don’t worry, Galileo. I’m sure we can find a way to get along.” Minho says, reaching for his outstretched wrist, his fingertips finding his pulse as he drags him into the room and onto a bed to saddle up to his side, ignoring the slight flush on his cheeks at the suggestiveness of his statement.

Newt and Thomas follow them with a simultaneous roll of their eyes along with a shared glance, Newt kicking the door shut behind him with the heel of his foot.

Thomas flops unceremoniously into bed, his face buried in the grimy probably unwashed pillows, muffled snores sounding after a moment. Newt makes a subdued, disgruntled noise as he pulls open his suitcase to find a towel to spread across the covers, laying down so that his arms brush against Thomas’, his soft breathing joining the other boy’s just moments later.

There’s a calming lull of a broken air conditioning, rustling coming from the room next to them occupied by their friends and the constant smacking in the room above them, but save for that it’s quiet.

“Gally?” Minho whispers, his voice gravelly from shouting earlier but still loud enough to hear.

“Yeah?” He responds after a moment, turning his head only, which rests on his arm. His buzzed hair is only somewhat visible because of the moonlight, but it catches Gally’s hazels eyes for a moment, less lethal now that he’s sated.

“Think we should change?” Minho asks, and Gally lets out an almost inaudible snort.

“You trying to see me naked?”

Minho shrugs, starting to grin again. Gally makes another noise, probably dismissive, but he sits up to pull the back of his shirt near his neck over his head, discarding it on the floor. Minho shimmies up, putting his hands on either side of his waist and crossing them, lifting it above his head with less grace than Gally, which is surprising.

Cold air hits Minho’s body as he rests his head back on one of the dingy motel pillows, squinting his eyes slightly. He can faintly make out the lines from Gally’s surgery, just two marks across his chest, and Gally seems to notice his interest because he relaxes against the mattress.

“When did you know you were a boy?” Minho asks abruptly, and Gally lifts a hand to absentmindedly swipe it across the scars.

“I can’t pinpoint a time, exactly. Like Newt’s genderfluid, me being a guy just sort of… Was constant.” He answers after a long time, so lengthy that Minho’s eyelids started to close. Gally sounds different, wiser and less snappy, nearly wistful. His voice is smooth and low, carrying throughout the noiseless room.

“Why’d you ask?” Gally inquires eventually, his tone still sleepy but now a little more defensive, and Minho places a hand on his warm stomach to calm him, tracing patterns just below his belly button.

“Chill out, Galileo. I was just… Wondering.” Minho huffs, turning to hide his face in his pillow, Gally’s skin underneath his hand shivering but leaning upwards slightly.

“Do you think you’re…?” Gally trails off, and Minho makes an uncommitted noise.

“I don’t feel like just a boy. I don’t know.” Minho admits, and Gally hums in thought. He processes the words slowly, allowing them to dissolve like snowflakes on your tongue in the air, and when he looks over, Gally’s eyebrows are knit.

“It’s cool of you to tell me that.” Gally murmurs, holding Minho’s gaze. He doesn’t back down, simply shrugging one shoulder lazily.

“I trust you.” He says, and a searing hand gets pressed against his waist. Gally’s breath comes in hot against his lips, but he doesn’t move, tentative. Minho’s heart rate speeds up, and he leans forward to bump his forehead against his jaw, much like a cat would.

“Gally, that’s gay.” He alerts him, and Gally’s chest shakes with tired, muted laughter.

Minho tucks his head underneath Gally’s chin, one hand absentmindedly traveling up and down his side and lower back, constellations being mapped out across his skin. He falls asleep with a gentle hum, the other boy nuzzling the top of his head gently with his nose.

...

“Minho, you’re drooling on me. Get the fuck off.” Gally mutters by Minho’s ear, the other boy giving a gurgled noise of protest.

“Make me.” He huffs, burrowing closer into Gally’s neck and giving an exhausted, experimental nip, which the other boy gives a yelp to. Maybe Minho should’ve provided a heads up before he attempted to mark him up.

“That’s it, I’m done with you. I’m throwing you out the damn window.” Gally roars as he slides his well-muscled arms underneath Minho’s legs and back, effectively hauling him upwards, and Minho gives an embarrassed squeak before he curls up against Gally’s bare chest.

“We’re on the first story, you won’t even get that hurt, you baby.” He mutters, and Minho reaches his arms up to clamp them around Gally’s neck when he reaches the window.

“Don’t you dare, Gally! God, you’re so much nicer when you’re tired.” Minho whines, pouting up at him and putting his face in front of his so Gally can’t look anywhere else.

Gally falters for a moment, making a grunt in the back of his throat before leaning over to drop Minho on the bed that contains Newt and Thomas, who now just appear to be a mess of limbs and clothes. He crawls into bed with him, squishing past Thomas as he hovers above Minho for a moment, his hands on either side of his head. Minho blinks his eyes open so they’re half-lidded, wrapping his calloused hands around Gally’s waist, lifting his head to press a kiss to his shoulder, partially an apology.

“What the bloody hell?” Newt grumbles, his voice raspy and unnaturally seductive, and Minho turns languidly to see the blonde boy wake up, sluggishly throwing an arm around his waist so he can’t move.

“Shut up and let us cuddle you.” Minho mumbles, and Newt freezes, turning his head so that his bangs barely brush against Minho’s forehead, but he stills a moment and places his hand on top of his.

“Us?” Gally asks, and Minho shifts his attention to him once more, wrapping his legs around his waist and pulling so that their hips flush together, trapping him successfully so that he leans fully into him.

“Us.” Minho repeats. “So long as you don’t get a boner.”

Gally screws up his face sourly, turning his head to nudge it into Minho’s collarbone. “Maggot.” He utters.

“You can put up with me for a little while. Alby’s gonna come crashing in soon, anyways.” Minho murmurs, trailing kissing distractedly up Gally’s shoulders to his neck, hiding his face in the crook of it as he moves his hand to wander over the inside of Newt’s thigh. “You know what that guy needs? Dick.”

“I think he’s the only straight one here, Min.” Newt drawls, and Minho shakes his head.

“He was checking out Ben yesterday, I’m sure of it.” He assures.

“Yeah, well we all were. He was yelling without a shirt.” Newt points out, and Minho moves to place a sloppy kiss on his cheek that somehow ends up on the corner of his lips.

“Stop being such a killjoy.” He whines exasperatedly, while Thomas rolls over in his sleep to throw an arm around as many waists as he can.

There’s an abrupt bashing of the door as Newt opens his mouth, but his shoulders sag as he sighs, leaning over to ghost his lips against Minho’s before flopping out of the bed, as dazed as the rest of them.

“Alby, you have a room key!” Newt shouts hoarsely, his golden crown of hair mussed as he thunks his head against the door, Alby rapping his fingertips against the cracked wood.

“Are you all presentable?” He calls, his voice distant.

Newt gives an approving noise, stepping back and leaning against the wall, Minho turning to watch his muscled back through his dark orange tank top, lanky but still firm.

Alby swings open the door, narrowly avoiding smacking into Newt’s noise, the other so tired he can hardly flinch. He narrows his eyes at the cuddle pile, opening his mouth before shaking his head and averting his eyes as if they were participating in some blasphemous sexual act.

“Get yourselves ready. We’re meeting the girls in an hour.” He says, shutting the door with a respectful click.

Newt stumbles back to the bed, collapsing on top of them all with a groan, falling asleep in minutes.

...

“Alby, you drive so slowly.” Minho complains, rolling over to press his face into Thomas’ stomach, the other boy making a noise but not shoving him onto the floor of the RV, which is littered with candy wrappers, beach towels, and old pizza boxes.

“Yeah, for once I agree with him. I wanna see Teresa.” Winston pipes up, and Frypan leans over to whisper something that sounds remarkably like “useless bisexual.”

“Too bad she didn’t come with us.” Minho agrees anyways, nuzzling further into Thomas’ thin shirt, his legs splayed over Newt and Gally’s laps while the latter boy traces patterns on his back on the exposed skin of his crop top. “Too much testosterone, she said. I don’t know what she’s talking about.”

“And she’s done with guys, she probably doesn’t want to spend a lot of time with them.” Winston provides sadly, and all eyes turn to Thomas, who avoids their gazes.

“Did she invite Brenda, too?” Gally asks, tracing what seems to be a heart against Minho’s spine.

“Obviously.” Newt pipes up, resting a book on Minho’s ankles as he flips pages every thirty seconds, the thin material scraping across his tan skin.

The RV comes to a slow stop, and Alby lets out a happy sigh, putting the car in park. “We’re here, guys.” He murmurs in his quiet voice, as if he’s discovered a new book for the first time, or he’s putting a child to sleep.

Minho immediately sits up, alike to the rest of them, bashing the side of his head against Thomas’ chin and earning a yowl of pain.

With a faint hum of apology to Thomas’ injury, Minho takes in the cooling breeze of the sea air as Alby stands up slowly to open a door. There’s a flat stretch of beach ahead of them, as tranquil as anything Minho’s ever seen, along with several tiny huts covered in straw with sand-dusted steps.

The girls—along with Aris—rush out of one of the tiny houses, Brenda nearly tripping over her feet as they all rush over to the doors, prying them open impossibly more.

Teresa sticks her head in, already tan with a faint golden glow, her lustrous brown hair in lightened tangles from the sun.

“Welcome. Took you all forever to get here.”

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is @ sapphicmaia
> 
> wow, i can't believe this is my 100th fic on ao3 ! glad it's this one :)


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